Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?
by PrettyPrettyPlease
Summary: It means too much to both of them for this to be just a one night stand. Right...? Co-workers don't do this. This isn't platonic. How could this possibly be friendship?  Arthur and Ariadne, based off the song of the same title.


Trying to get more of my next multichapter fic outlined and written before I start posting it. But I'm having post withdrawal and writer's block and when that happens I listen to music. And when that happens I get off track and write a completely unrelated oneshot. A SONGFIC none the less... But that's ok. It's late, so there may be some errors, please dont hold that against me.

I do not own Inception or any of the beautiful characters, just the plot below. I also don't own the song "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow." There are many beautiful versions. The two I used for inspiration are the covers done by **Amy Winehouse **and **Sean Rumsey.** Hope you enjoy! And maybe review if you feel like... It always makes the sun shine...  
>xxxxxx<p>

**Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?**

June 22nd, Fischer job is completed.  
>July 22nd, Arthur checks up on Ariadne.<br>September 13th, The team reassembles for another job.  
>September 13th through November 5th, a series of business dinners and lunches shared between the two.<br>November 7th, Job is completed.  
>December 7th, Arthur visits Paris.<br>December 10th, Arthur leaves Paris.  
>January 29th, Ariadne visits Arthur and Eames during their job in Australia.<br>February 2nd, Ariadne leaves Australia.  
>March 3rd, His job is complete. He calls on the Architect during his detour through Paris.<br>May 26th, Arthur signs Ariadne on another job with him.  
>May 26th through July 8th, a series of business dinners, lunches, and professional outings.<br>July 9th, Job should be completed. Job goes South. Arthur drags Ariadne on the run.

July 9th:  
>The two decided to hide out across the globe in Berlin. At 2:24 am, Arthur heard a knock at his hotel room door. He opened it to find a small Architect, tearstained and noticeably timid of approaching him. She shouldn't be. They had spent more than plenty of time together and gotten to know the other inside out, she should be comfortable about approaching him. He opened his mouth to inquire about her unusual state of being but she spoke first, "I didn't pack anything. Do you have an extra shirt or something I can sleep in?"<p>

Wordlessly, he crossed the room and grabbed an undershirt. When he came back to the door, she was looking anywhere but him. "It'll be ok." He could read her without trying; He'd studied her obsessively from the moment he met her and thus could tell that she was worried about their failure.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She was terrified and stubbornly trying to hide it like he expected. The shirt was an excuse.

He ignored her attempt, "I'm right here. Just across the hall. They don't know where we are, Ariadne. (Never 'Ari'. He could never say 'Ari' like Eames and Yusuf and Cobb. It was too personal. Too telling of feelings he shouldn't possess.) I wouldn't let you stay over there if I believed us to be in any danger."

Ariadne was fidgeting. Still avoiding his penetrating Point Man stare. A tear tried to roll down her cheek but she wiped it before it could escape her eyes, thereafter meeting his. "Thank you for the shirt."

As she reached to retrieve the clothing, he pulled her into a comforting hug. The first hug they'd ever shared despite the hours of quality time spent. It was indescribable, the feeling of holding her. Her arms reciprocating and wrapping themselves around his waist, her head buried in his chest. Arthur desperately tried to slow the beating of his heart for fear she could hear it and his secret would be revealed in the most shameful manner. A burst of frigidness welcomed the empty spot her arms had been and it was only then, he'd noticed she pulled away. Looking more confident, less anxious and ready to brave her room on her own now. When she smiled halfheartedly at him and at last took his shirt, his hand took on a life of its own and brushed a hair behind her ear, so it wouldn't feel left out, being the only strand not in her ponytail.

It was barely a touch. It was so reserved and light that, if not for the fuzz on her ears, she wouldn't have been able to sense his fingers slowly tracing the back of her ear as he pulled away. The tips of her ears burned and she was sure she matched the rich, scarlet color the hallway was bathed in. He'd taken her to dinner before (business dinners) and they'd spent quite some time alone before (always cordial), occasionally traveling to visit the other (stopping by because it was convenient). They were companions and work friends who'd enjoyed each other's company. That was all. And yet as at ease as they were around each other, they'd never so much as brushed hands. They'd kept careful distance, always, so as not to disturb their professional, platonic relationship. And there he was, removing a few bricks from the barrier they'd built between them. She searched the pools of his eyes coolly (so as not to startle him or leave a clue as to what she hoped that touch was motivated by.) and he stared back, unwavering. As the beats of her heart lost their rhythm to a topsy-turvy, frantic thrashing…she decided she'd experiment and try to return normalcy to that organ. Ariadne took the collar of his suit on one side and followed the fabric down. She adjusted his pocket squares and slowly brushed dust (or the absence of it) off of his shoulder.

Arthur swallowed. Her eyes had been fixed on him all the while, as if challenging him, asking him and judging him all at once. Her touch was so close but so far away…He could feel it through his suit jacket if he strained. After all, she had ran her hands along his jacket as lightly as he had her ear. His muscles slightly jerked. He was in the process of leaning into her touch when he remembered what was happening and tried to control himself. Was it possible for someone to break a sweat from working too hard to remain unmoving? Yes, he'd proven it. Whether by coincidence or because she'd undoubtedly noticed his jerk away, Ariadne's head turned slightly and she dropped her hand. She had broken eye contact and suddenly he felt closed off to the sunlight. Boxed in. The girl visibly rocked back and forth on her feet…preparing to return to her room and leave whatever moment they'd just had, be.

Electrocution. When in the past few seconds had she stuck her hand in a light socket? A jolting pain, a rush of relaxation and a temporary loss of feeling in her arm caused her to look down and find his index finger trailing down her forearm. Her eyes darted back to his in hopes that they would give her an explanation but instead they gleamed and silently asked for her to intertwine her hand with his. And so she did and the electric sparks came back, in her hand, her stomach, her toes. Her heart must have been throwing itself against the walls of her ribcage begging for freedom from her body. Ariadne followed his moving gaze to their hands that were brought up to shoulder level.

He was watching them intently, almost hypnotized. He'd begun pulling his away…but only so he could explore every crevice, every line on her small hand. He would rub his thumb up and down each of her fingers and then weave theirs together, only for him to repeat the process. It was so utterly freeing that she allowed him this, allowed him to know every callous and curve of her fingernail, every ridge of her handprint. Allowed him to meld his hand with hers over and over again. These were the hands she used to blow his mind with her creations, the hands she's used to tie scarves around her neck. He dropped their hands back down and held them there, while his other hand turned his attention.

She saw it coming. His hand raising, moving towards her. She felt the warm, silky material of her scarf alter its position and felt his hand slide to anchor her neck, leaving a blazing streak of flames in its path. Arthur stepped closer, causing her lungs to try suck it all the air possible. Her eyes grew big and wouldn't tear away from his mouth no matter how hard she tried. Arthur brought his head closer by means of the gravitational pull she'd captured him in when she parted her lips. She titled her head up and the support of her knees wobbled when she felt him kiss her at last.

It was everything he hoped it would be. He remembered the peck from the Fischer job being spectacular but this, this was so much better. Every cell in his body soared. She was so soft, so delicate, so Ariadne and he'd been longing to do this for months. It was short, despite feeling like eternity for him, before he removed himself and questioned her with his eyes. He was awarded a smile and another kiss, this time longer, deeper. "Ari…" he sighed. This time he could breathe her in, this time her hands looped around his neck, this time his tiptoed around her waist. This time he wanted her closer. This time his feelings overpowered every thought of common sense and good judgment in his head. This time, he brought her just inside his room, closed the door and pressed her against it.

_Tonight you're mine, completely.  
><em>Walking to his room earlier, she would have never thought of finding herself in this situation. Being focus of Arthur's affections. They'd barely touched before today and now their hands roamed all over each other. Tonight, there was no Point Man, there was no job, there was nothing else seeming to be on his mind. There were no fragments of his being put on hold or hidden away from her. When his jacket and tie had fallen to the ground, it was the start of his giving everything to her. The perfect parts of him, the imperfect, she could sense it all. They were lost in each other, consumed by each other. He was hers and hers alone in this moment and she basked in it._  
>You give your love so sweetly.<br>_He was gentle. He was aware she was smaller than he and every movement was delicate so as not to hurt her. He wasn't demanding, he wasn't too urgent or too forward, he placed kisses on her like she was porcelain. He cradled her head, caressed her sweetly. He was gentlemanly, in that every second he asked if she was sure and after her consent, would admit that he's wanted this for a long time. _  
>The light of love is in your eyes,<br>_He wasn't focused on himself either, on the act. He gazed into her eyes when they were open with a look she'd never seen in them before. Admiration, adoration? She never believed his eyes capable of sparkling the way they did. Of making her feel like he was penetrating her innermost thoughts. Of making her feel vulnerable and exposed and bold and content at the same time. Stolen glances and accidental eye locks across the room that made her heart leap…that she could handle. The business stare that made her shrink back…that she could handle. The quirks of his eyebrow that made her knees week, the smirks that wouldn't allow her to stifle a smile….those she could handle. But the way he was looking at her now, the way he'd whispered, "I love you, Ari," with so much obvious raw emotion…that she could not handle. Her stomach jumped to her throat like she was falling 100mph off of a cliff. What he was saying _must _be true. But she'd had doubt. Anyone could get caught up in the moment._  
>Will you still love me, tomorrow?<em>

_Is this a lasting treasure,  
><em>Afterwards they lay facing each other, covered in sheets. He never wanted to go back to the way it was before. Not after this. Not after being so tortuously aware of how much he needed her by his side. So despairingly aware that if this is what emotion was like, then he never wanted to be unfeeling and stoic again. He wanted to throw away every mask of ignorance and indifference out of the window. He realized that she was the only thing that could complete him, that he'd do anything for her to be with him like this again. To feel the same way he did._  
>Or just a moment's pleasure?<br>_The thought of this being a one night stand had already begun to crumble the Point Man. How could he live after this, knowing she'd never look at him the same? Knowing that they'd go back to meaningless conversations about the weather, jokes about Eames and concerns over Cobb? Knowing that they'd go back to sitting feet away from each other, avoid looks that lasted too long? Knowing they'd go back to being Point Man and Architect, separate, detached and over. Knowing that, eventually, another man would be in his position._  
>Can I believe the magic of your sigh?<br>_Happiness rushed through him after he heard her sigh. She had to feel the same way. She had to have felt something for him during all of those dinners, long trips and dreamsharing jobs, just like he secretly had. This couldn't mean nothing to her. This couldn't be platonic. This couldn't be friendship. This _had_ to be something more. She had to be as ineffably, devastatingly, arduously, indescribably, perfectly in love with him as he was with her. But opening up to people is hard for Arthur. To open up to someone and bare your feelings was a big deal to him. A giving of his trust and heart. Was it as big a deal to her? Has she felt this way for someone else? Would she just as easily given herself away to anyone else? Was this standard for her or was Arthur special?_  
>Will you still love me, tomorrow? <em>

_Tonight, with words unspoken,  
><em>He rested his hand on her waist and searched her eyes for anything to quell his anxiety. He breathed a few sighs of relief when she rested her hand on the side of his face, smiled, albeit sadly. Surely a man such as Arthur had had this happen frequently. He could have any woman he wanted, what would he want with a short, dorky, architect barely out of college? He'd just wanted to know what she was like…he wouldn't be sickeningly head over heels for her in this moment like she was. She rolled over on her other side to face away from him, so he wouldn't see the droplets of unrequited feelings fill her eyes._  
>You say that I'm the only one.<br>_The way she'd looked at him…he had to be _the one_…and then she rolled away. She shut him out, she ended a beautiful moment between them. Arthur scooted closer and fit his body into hers once again, kissing her shoulder that peeked out from the covers and then her cheek. This night had been immaculate and he would savor every moment for as long as it lasted._  
>But will my heart be broken<br>When the night meets the morning star?  
><em>They relished the darkness…dreading the morning and the facts to face. The answers for their actions. A few minutes passed and she hesitatingly rested her arm on top of his.  
>"Arthur?" She whispered, fearing he may have fallen asleep.<br>"Hm?" It was with a voice that sounded like he was already in another world. Half asleep, barely paying attention. His consciousness slipping away rapidly. She felt him nuzzle his nose against the crook of her neck.  
><em>So tell me, now, cause I won't ask again.<br>_"What you said earlier…when we-," she paused and licked her lips. She took her time mustering up her courage, "Will you still love me, tomorrow?"  
>"Mm." Was all the answer she had. Her mood now dampened, she intertwined their fingers for what she prayed wasn't the last time and fell asleep to his deep, peaceful breaths.<br>xxxxxx  
>July 10th:<p>

The white-bluish tint of light streaming through the windows is what woke her up. Cold, alone in the bed, clothed in Arthur's under shirt, the one he'd lent her the night before. Her blurry eyes focused on her suitcase in the corner of the room and her bishop on the nightstand. She was back in her room. Not that she ever left. A wave of depression followed the initial shock of such a vivid dream.

She jolted. Startled by the opening of her bathroom door and the sound of a flush. She rolled over to first, see a red die set on the nightstand across the way and then second, to see Arthur's figure emerge from her bathroom in just his boxers and pajamas pants. "Well good morning," he beamed. A grin crept its way onto her face and she gathered that last night had been an actual occurrence. However, Ariadne tipped her bishop for reassurance when he bent down to move his shoes out of his way. "My room was trashed…so, I hope you don't mind that I-uh, moved everything in here." So that's why they were back in her room…that's how she was all of a sudden wearing his undershirt.

The girl shook her head and shrugged playfully, "Not at all."

He crawled back into the bed and bestowed another kiss on her lips, "And yes, by the way."

Ariadne was giddy…maybe that's why she felt like she'd missed something, "Did I ask a question?"

"Last night you did." He smiled and leant down to press her lips sweetly again, "It's tomorrow…" He placed another, "And I'm still very much in love with you."

He brushed his fingers across her face and everything was bliss.


End file.
